


What Dreams May Come

by strawberrykait



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrykait/pseuds/strawberrykait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was definitely the best way to begin a Sunday, Draco thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Dreams May Come

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.
> 
> **Beta Readers:** McCargi
> 
> **Story Notes:** This is dedicated to the artist, Tyrande Whisperwind, whom I want to thank for the great inspiration. And a great big THANK YOU to the Hawthorn & Vine Moderators for hosting the 2014 Reverse Challenge!
> 
>   
> Beneath the Surface, by [Tyrande Whisperwind](http://dramione.org/viewuser.php?uid=557)

Draco was sound asleep, warm in his bed, when he felt the mattress shift near his feet. Although somewhat aware that someone was there, he wasn’t able to wake up, not even to tell the bastard to bugger off. In his sleep, he pictured Goyle tugging at the covers, lifting them up and shoving something quite large into his bed. 

Draco kicked at the bugger. Either he missed, or Goyle and his trick were nothing but another dream. With a little moan, Draco rolled over onto his back, his arms splaying above his head. There was something truly decadent about Sunday mornings. No classes to attend; quite often, no Quidditch practice. The time was his alone, to do with as he pleased, and usually, that meant a lie in. 

The bed shifted again, and this time, Draco could do nothing because his cock was also being caressed through his shorts. Believing he was still dreaming, he burrowed into his pillow further, a smile creeping up. A small, warm hand reached inside and pulled his cock out, his flesh hotter than the hand that circled him near his balls. Slowly but steadily, the hand rose up and down, over and over, occasionally squeezing near the head of his cock. 

Oh, it was marvellous! _This was definitely the best way to begin a Sunday,_ Draco thought as the hand sped up. 

Suddenly, the hand was gone. Before Draco could protest or even open his eyes in disappointment, two hot lips encircled the head of his cock.

“Ohh,” he moaned, both hands falling back to the bed, clutching at the sheets. Her mouth was hot and wet and deep, taking him in much farther than any other girl ever had. Draco’s eyes did open then, and he was very surprised to see a body beneath his duvet. 

_This wasn’t a dream._

He moaned again, one hand reaching out to touch the girl giving him head, while the other continued to ball up the sheets in his fist. His fingers barely brushed against her covered head before falling back to his sides. Both legs were beginning to tremble, anxiously squirming, unable to go very far. The girl was straddling him, keeping him exactly where she wanted him.

_Only for now,_ he thought, his mind swimming with images of how he intended to return the favour. When she reached the very tip of his cock, there was a small popping noise as he slipped out of her mouth. 

“Wai―” was all he managed in protest. Her hand was back, pumping him steadily, moving freely against the hot, slick skin. He felt her tongue dancing along the now weeping head of his cock, dragging down the length of him. She spread the leaking fluid around his head, gripping him just beneath the neck. Draco was incapable of speech, let alone thought, and could only stare down at the bobbing head engulfing his cock. He was hard, solid, and aching. 

She spent a long time teasing his tip with her tongue, one hand wrapped around the shaft, squeezing on the way back up each time. Her other hand had found his balls and was cupping them gently. His cock throbbed almost painfully. Draco knew he wouldn’t last much longer and he prayed that she’d take him back inside that glorious mouth of hers. 

Seconds later, she pressed her closed mouth against his tip, using his cock to slowly force her mouth open. She had let go of his balls and both hands were surrounding his pulsing flesh, twisting and pumping alternately. Her mouth continued to slowly open up for him. 

Draco whimpered as he felt her teeth lightly scrape the overly sensitive skin. He clutched at the duvet; he had to see her, had to know who this goddess was. He wanted to see her face, her eyes, to watch her as he came in her mouth. He desperately wanted to come in her mouth. Draco wanted to touch her, anywhere, her breasts, and her cunt. He imagined what she must taste like. The damned duvet seemed endless, almost as if it were deliberately fighting against him. 

He could hear himself muttering, moaning half-formed words. Once, it seemed as though she were trying to respond when she moaned around him in her mouth. His cock hardened even more then, and he was quivering in his stomach. When her mouth finally reached her pumping hands she let go, her mouth continuing downward. Draco was sweating and panting, his stomach rising and falling erratically. _Soon. Please, please don’t stop. Yes, yes, oh Merlin, please!_ She lifted his balls into her hand squeezed them hard. The tip of his cock reached the back of her throat, and she swallowed. 

That was the end of him.

Draco’s hips pumped wildly as he orgasmed. He was panting like a three-headed dog, his head thrown back into the pillows, his toes curling and his knees bending. She’d brought her hand back to his cock, which had slid almost completely out of her mouth, and pumped him until he had finished. 

Draco lay limp and spent, eyes wide, his chest heaving. He felt his cock slip out of her mouth and flop against his thigh, wet and sated. 

The bed shifted again. Draco managed to focus on the movement, watching, dazed, as the duvet lifted up and his goddess was revealed. To his absolute shock, it was Hermione sodding Granger. Her hair floated high above her head, like a fluffy, brown cloud. Her white button-down shirt was dishevelled and untucked, and he could see her white knees peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. 

He was stunned into silence at the sight of her, his brain unable to fully accept that what had just happened had been from none other than the girl least likely to have ever done so. Draco’s cock twitched back to life, the traitor. Granger smiled first at his straining manhood, which seemingly was reaching out for her again, then smiled down at Draco.

Before his addled brain could get his mouth working again, Granger scooted up his body, her knees pressing firmly against his hips. She wasn’t wearing any knickers. Draco’s cock strained upwards and he could feel how wet she was for him. He moaned again, his eyes rolling as his head fell back against his pillow.

Granger said something he couldn’t quite understand, and when he started asking her what she had said, all thought was blown away as she rose up enough to grab his cock once more. Draco watched as Granger, the brightest witch of their age, the biggest swot he’d ever had the displeasure to know, guided him inside her dripping, hot cunny.

Slowly, she lowered herself all the way, taking in every inch of him, down to the root. His breath hitched, watching as her big brown eyes closed with obvious delight. Granger bit her lower lip and moaned. Without conscious effort, his hands latched onto her hips, holding onto her as she rocked against his pelvis. 

“Yes,” he moaned as she lifted up, her hands braced against his chest. That cloud of hair surrounded him, buried him alive. It smelled like wheat and sweat. The air was heavy with the scent of her hair, of their sex, and he was intoxicated. 

Granger brought herself down more quickly this time, and then up again, creating a quickening rhythm he quite enjoyed. He began thrusting up into her, relishing the sounds she made when he did. Draco moved a hand around to her arse, while the other hand delved under her skirt. His thumb fumbled a bit before finding her clit, and when he rubbed it just right, her moans turned into hitching sobs. 

He quickly matched her rhythm, thrusting into her body. He was slick with sweat, and her hands slipped a few times, so she leaned backwards, away from him. The angle was wonderful; he’d never felt anything like it. 

All the build-up, all the teasing, crescendoed into a mind-blowing climax for Granger that seemed never-ending. Draco watched her orgasm around him, felt her clenching muscles around his cock, and soon followed her down. 

“Jesus, Granger, I’m coming,” Draco said. His thrusts grew frantic and his whole body seized up. Draco sat up and latched onto her as she screamed out her second orgasm. For a second, he worried about his dorm mates hearing them, but the thought was quickly forgotten in his release.

Draco lunged up in the bed, panting and sweaty, his cock jutting out from his body beneath the wet sheets. _What just happened? Where’s Granger?_ Frantically, Draco tossed the covers aside, searching for his lover. In his frenzied search, he managed to tangle himself up in the sheets and fell out of the canopy bed onto the hard, cold floor.

Within seconds, Draco managed to untangle himself, inspect the room for witnesses, and nearly had a heart attack. Still panting wildly, he flung aside the bed curtains, circling the bed, even looking under it. _Where was she? She was just here!_

Then it dawned on Draco, as he stared down at his straining hard on, that it had only been a dream. _A very real, wonderful, erotic dream… about the least desirable witch in school._ He pulled at his hair, frustrated and still very horny, before using his wand to clean up his sticky mess. Draco released a weary sigh, his fists balled up on either hip. There must be something terribly wrong with him to have had such unsuitable dreams about _her_ , of all girls.

Still, Draco had to admit that his dream had been brilliant and sexy, and he couldn’t help but wonder how soft and smooth Granger’s thighs really were. His cock twitched at the memory, straining against his pants to be freed. Draco glanced around at the empty dormitory before climbing back into bed, pulling the canopy closed around him. As he freed his cock and wrapped his own hand around the searing flesh, he couldn’t help but recall Granger’s wild hair and breathy moans. 

_It was just a fantasy; no one ever need to know about it, right?_


End file.
